Starbase 53 A Life in Chains
by plecostomus-of-justice
Summary: NOW COMPLETE This fic is an AU interpretation of the episode “Inquisition.” What if Sloan was really from Internal Affairs? What if they really took Bashir rather than him being beamed out by the Vorta? What if there was no holodeck and it was all real?
1. Chapter 1

_Starbase 53 – A Life in Chains_

_No, I don't own ST:DS9 – if any of my original characters can be of use to anyone, please help yourself but don't forget to credit me!_

_This fic is an AU interpretation of the episode "Inquisition." What if Sloan was really from Internal Affairs? What if they really took Bashir rather than him being beamed out by the Vorta? What if there was no holodeck and it was all real?_

_(there is also another alternative episode ending which occurs in this fic, watch out for it, but it's fairly obvious)_

_Chapter 1 - Changes_

It only took two days for my life to change forever. Two days when I expected to go to a medical conference and had instead ended up becoming a suspected spy, under arrest and imprisoned by Internal Affairs, under the command of a man crazed with grief and desperate to avenge the death of his son.

I was woken in the holding cell on DS9, late at night. As I stood up, I saw Sloan standing by the forcefield, looking in on me. It was then I found out about the Starfleet order and that I was to be escorted to Starbase 53, under arrest for espionage and treason.

I was led through the corridors of DS9 to the shuttlebay. As I was marched along, wearing restraints and surrounded by four guards, I passed my quarters, 011-335-679. The door was forced open and Internal Affairs people were walking in and out. The guards stopped to talk to their colleagues, and I was able to catch a sneaky glimpse inside. I regretted my illicit look instantly, as I saw my room emptied of everything which made it personal to me. It had been changed from the warm, comforting space into sterile guest quarters. I had made the station my home for years, now my home was being ripped apart by investigators. I saw one of them reach for my teddy bear, run a tricorder over it then place it in the replicator. I was nearly crying as I watched them laugh before de-materialising my teddy. The inert atoms swirled for a moment in the replicator before disappearing. I wondered how many more of my things had been destroyed in this way. The guards suddenly decided I had seen enough and pushed me forward. I had no choice but to fall in step and march along.

My wrists were itching under the restraints. They were on tightly and were very uncomfortable and I was starting to feel claustrophobic, surrounded by the guards. I felt like a Borg drone, rather than a Starfleet doctor. I wondered what was going to happen to me and what Starbase 53 would be like. I thought of the last prison, 371. When I was there, during the worst moments, I had thought I may never see Earth again, and I was beginning to feel the same worry. I must have slowed down because the guard behind prodded me with her phaser rifle and ordered me to keep moving. Numbly I complied, putting one foot in front of the other, walking on like a condemned man.

I felt so helpless as I walked. I was thinking about what Sloan had said yesterday during my first interrogation. He had asked me if I adapted to incarceration better than normal humans because of my modification. I had been angry when he asked that, but now I was starting to wonder whether my parents had been more astute with my modifications, implanting me with a prison-tolerance gene. Thinking of my parents brought the pain and worry back and I must have slowed down because the guard prodded me again and growled

"stop again and you'll regret it."

On we walked. I was slammed hard against the wall at one point, as a red shirted DS9 ensign passed by. Through the dim, night time lighting, I could barely make out her face and I could not recognise her. All I could see was the night lighting reflecting in her eyes as she looked straight at me. I met her eyes for an instant, trying to communicate with looks, trying to tell her to alert the captain. The guards must have noticed our looks, because they pushed at me more viciously, spinning me round so I could no longer see her. My hands hit the wall hard and I looked down, startled at the unexpected contact. I could not see my hands, only the shining metal growths of the restraints imprisoning my wrists. The whole situation was starting to hit home. I was beginning to realise how serious my position was. I was marched off towards the docking ring, all the time feeling as though I was wading through mud.

We arrived at the pylon, finally, after a walk that left me breathless though I ran longer distances for fun in the corridors after work. We stopped for a minute to allow the airlock to open, and over the clanking and scraping of the seals, I heard the noise of footsteps, running through the deserted corridors. My captors spun, drawing weapons and looking wildly into the darkness. I smiled, my genetically modified hearing had isolated the direction of the sound seconds before that of my guards. I congratulated myself on a point Sloan would never know I had won. This was what my life was to become, a small burst of satisfaction every time I beat them, in even a small way.

A figure materialised in the darkness. Sisko, with the red shirted ensign at his heels.

"Leaving already? Mr Sloan" he asked,

"Unfortunately" replied Sloan, with an icy smile," Duty calls."

"I'm sure" replied Sisko. "Though does that duty include forcibly removing a member of my senior staff without my prior authorisation?'

Starfleet seems to think so. Commander Sisko" smirked Sloan triumphantly. This special order gives me the right to neutralise any security risk to DS9 by whatever means necessary. As I have been explaining to your doctor only half an hour ago, neutralising the risk here means removing Bashir to a maximum security cell at Starbase 53. I have the authority. I have the right. Now step aside."

"No." rumbled Sisko ominously.

"I'm surprised to hear you say that, after all, he lied to you, you heard his admission yourself this morning. Is it really worth risking your career for a liar and a traitor? Step aside before I have you relieved and confined."

Grudgingly, Sisko moved. I remember looking at him, desperately. He shrugged. I imagined the movement of his shoulders was expressing regret and defeat. But he never met my gaze and I walked into that ship never knowing if he truly believed what Sloan had said.

The ship was an executive shuttle, much like the runabouts. It was fairly big, though I got no chance to appreciate this as I was flung into a chair. The chair faced the engineering console, though that was powered down blacker that the view from my window. They were taking no chances. Once we were settled, the pilot, a young African lieutenant, opened the Comm link and requested permission to leave. I waited for the assent of the faceless commander of D shift Ops.

The voice from the screen failed to give its assent. Instead. I heard the sharp, officious tones of Jadzia on the comm.

"Shuttle Navante. We are currently in the process of confirming your orders with Starfleet Command, please stand by."

"Hmm, they won't care this much when they finally realise it's true, will they?" Laughed the Yellowshirt ensign to his colleague. who still held a phaser rifle, the casual way the shoulder strap was slung across her body betraying her skill and experience with the weapon.

This comment stung me. but I waited with bated breath, hoping against hope, that Sisko had told Starfleet, that they had discovered the mistake, that the next hail would be an Admiral telling them to release me. It never came. Instead. I heard the crunching and groaning of the mooring clamps disengaging, releasing us to the cold clutches of space.

The journey was a long one. Our course had originally taken us on a flyby of the station, its cold geometry beautiful in the ethereal light of the wormhole, open to receive an incoming craft. That was the last view of the station I saw before the familiar, yet entirely alien warp pattern appeared in our windows, and we began to move at many times the speed of light. Those beautiful stars, stretched beyond all recognition into rainbow stripes that slashed into the fabric of space. Stars, laid out like cloaks on the road that led me far from everything I knew, into a new life. I was still deep in thought and daydream when the strain and the sleepless night caught up with me. I gradually felt my eyes closing and fought the hazy sensation of sleep. That was impossible, though. I had been deprived of good sleep for too long. My eyelids dropped.

I was suddenly jolted awake as the ship bucked and danced beneath me.

"Thought that was a rescue mission?" laughed Sloan from his position by the pilot's console. "Sorry to disappoint you, it's just some ion turbulence."

I did not bother to answer him, instead, I fixed my eyes on the blue haze of the ion storm, far into the distance, trying to reconcile myself to the fact that this would probably be the last time I would see it. Somehow, though, my brain would just not accept this fact. It kept saving to me "you survived before, you will again." I could not quite believe the voice, though. The small voice of hope inside my head was being slowly drowned out by the screaming of the nerves on my wrist, trapped by those restraints.

Though I had hoped to remain awake through the whole small act of defiance to my captors, to make their job slightly more difficult, I was lulled again by the comforting bleeps of the consoles and the hum of the life support systems. My tiredness returned, and soon I fell deep into a dreamless sea of pure black.

I was woken again by a prod on my shoulder. The command ensign was digging her phaser rifle into my shoulder, and talking. For a minute, I thought she was speaking Bolian, the words were so unfamiliar, but gradually I focussed on what she was saying.

"Time for food. Do you want it or not?" she snapped.

"Couldn't you have just waited for me to wake up?" I replied, blearily.

"Starfleet regulations specify that we offer a meal once every five hours. If you choose not to accept that meal that is your prerogative, but we will not be obliged to give you anything for the next five hours."

"OK then. I'll eat." I mumbled, as I felt hunger pangs in my stomach. I glanced up at the woman. and saw, for a minute the pure hate in her eyes as she looked down at me before turning on her heel and marching to the replicator.

The TKL stuck in my throat, their dryness causing me to choke. The redshirt walked over with a bottle, its dull metal glinting in the shuttle's stark fluorescent light. She paused long enough to remove the lid, before passing it to me. I gripped it with difficulty in one clammy hand, and drank deeply. It tasted foul, a drink designed to combat dehydration.

Five hours I had been on that shuttle, though, that was a frightening thought. I began to wonder how the nurse was coping hack home on DS9, and I was just thinking that I hoped she would be able to deal with O'Brien's shoulder, when I heard a gentle chime from the Comm unit. Sloan looked up, activated the screen and read a message, I could not see what it said. I did not risk squirming to try and see, I did not want to drop my bottle and TKL's and risk the wrath of the guard.

She returned, clutching a packet that sparkled in the light of the cabin. She threw it at me, I struggled to catch it. but the restraints were unwieldy, and it fell on the floor. Sighing angrily, she walked over and scooped it up, ripping the packet open before dropping it into my lap as though I were a small child. I sighed, TKL rations, it was hardly scones, Moba jam and Redleaf tea but it was better than nothing. The taste of these rations brought back a flood of memories. The Bajoran civil war, when we had lived up in the conduits for days, fighting together with Li Nalas to stop the Bajorans being invaded again by Cardassia.. It felt like a long time ago, when the Gamma quadrant was just a new part of space to explore, when no one knew about the Dominion.

Sloan had finished reading and, with a few typed commands, sent the message downloading into his PADD. Once the download was complete, he swivelled in his chair to face me and rose slowly to his feet. Holding the PADD in his left hand, he took a deep breath and began to speak.

"Doctor Julian Bashir. I have received order 66724 from Starfleet Command giving me the power to relieve you of all responsibilities relating to your post and to provisionally expel you from Starfleet pending an investigation of your alleged anti-Federation activities. Therefore, on Stardate 65357.1, you stand relieved. Furthermore, I am required to advise you that, from the above Stardate, your citizenship of the Federation has been provisionally revoked, with all the rights and privileges the aforementioned grants you. Well, Doctor, your distinguished career is obviously all over now. I hope that you consider the Dominion worth what you've just lost." He finished, with the merest hint of a smirk breaking the sombre tones of his voice.

"What happened to innocent until proved guilty? I'm not a traitor!"

Suddenly. it struck me what he had just said, what had just happened. I gasped, the bottle falling out of my hand. My god. I thought. That was it, it was all over now, and I had not done anything wrong. Nothing. The word echoed around my head, nothing, I had done nothing wrong, I had nothing left.

_Authors note_

_This is a very old fanfic of mine, originally written in 1998, when the episode "Inquisition" first aired on BBC. It has been lost for a long time after a anti-virus related Windows 98 crash, and I am finally piecing it back together using OCR from the one hard copy I have. Hopefully i will be able to finish this task._

_I hope you enjoy it, please read, review, whatever :)_


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2 – New Arrival._

I was almost catatonic for the rest of the journey. I could not reconcile myself to what had been said. I had been expelled from Starfleet, I had worked all my life for Starfleet, done their exams, spent my life studying to make myself worthy of them, forfeited my career as a civilian doctor to join their hierarchy, at the bottom. Even lied for them, to my friends, to my colleagues and even to myself, using my love of Starfleet to assuage the doubt in my conscience. Now they would just abandon me, ignore what I had done for them, the times that I had helped them. All that and they would abandon me because of ramblings of a grief-stricken man who needed someone to blame for the death of his son.

I could think about what had occurred with Starfleet. However, I was unable to even contemplate my rejection by the Federation. The Federation was my home, had been all my life, I had nowhere else. Suddenly I got a flash of how Worf felt, the politics that governed his life. I had a desperate desire to speak to him, to ask him how to cope. He had been rejected, denied citizenship by his people, but he was lucky, he had others to turn to, another place to go. I had no one. No one at all and nowhere to go.

I was still deep in shock from Sloan's proclamation when I saw the Starbase, Starbase 53, the base for the agents of Internal Affairs to interrogate traitors, spies, turncoats and me. Eddington had spent time here, I remembered. as Starfleet tried to eliminate the Maquis threat. I had supported what they had done then, I had thought that Starfleet should eliminate all security risks, In fact, at some moments, when I had been stricken with grief at the loss of friends, I had thought that they should he executed rather than he allowed to live in comfort, in the warm with good medical care whilst innocent civilians were dying. Now. I finally realised what Eddington had undergone. I saw the truth in what I had been taught for many years, that no one deserved to die for whatever crime. In that moment I believe that I finally became what my teachers had said we all were, a higher form human, who values compassion over violence.

The shuttle danced in a bizarre waltz with the station as the pilot initiated docking manoeuvres. I watched as the docking bay doors slid open. revealing an ominous black with only the navi-computer guide lights beckoning us in. I sensed, rather than saw the shuttle pass through the force field, the brush of energy dancing across my skin. With a gentle bump we landed and straight away the doors slammed shut behind us. For a moment, I thought that there was a malfunction but then it occurred to me, they were there to prevent prisoners stealing the shuttle and escaping. "Welcome to the new order," I thought bitterly, as the guards began to complete the post-docking check.

The two people moved around the shuttle effortlessly, performing tasks that were routine to me. It felt very strange to be observing this ritual from the outside. Every small task they performed was familiar, from locking down the plasma vents, to powering down the replicator system. However, this time, there was an extra check; me. I was ordered to stand up, as Yellowshirt and friends checked my restraints. Sloan ignored us, facing the Comm panel and speaking quietly to the anonymous voice inside the Starbase.

"Right then Doctor." Sloan turned in his seat and smirked again to me. "Let's get moving, time to start your vacation. Lower shuttle doors and move him out." He said to the ensigns in a smug tone of voice.

A phaser prodded me in the back and I was led down the shuttle ramp in a little cavalcade of guards, with Sloan at our head.

"Identification, order numbers, serial code?" Enquired the ensign from the shuttlebay booth in the corner of the room.

"Bashir, Julian. EC109557/78D, order 66715/66724 IA. FM998710167534/R N/R" Sloan rattled off the numbers with confidence and precision.

My life, reduced to fifty-one numbers, all unintelligible to me. They seemed to make the ensign content, though. She casually entered them into her PADD, turned back to Sloan and said.

"Provisional 97536.2, reassess 65436.2"

"Understood. Is Admiral Tim'Anna here yet?" asked Sloan, before turning to me.

"You see doctor, we have some more of your allies here. Maybe they'll implicate you and save you confessing."

"He arrived yesterday. Commander. Security'll be here in a minute, then I'll open the door for you so you can go get that processed."

She then turned to me with a look normally reserved for vermin, and said.

"Welcome to Starbase 53. Enjoy your stay"

Sloan and the ensign smiled, I stood there, eyes to the ground trying to ignore the jibe, my face burning.

No sooner had she finished speaking than the ground-floor entrance to the shuttlebay opened, and eight heavily armed security officers marched in. I was quickly surrounded. and taken off through corridors. I lost all sense of direction, and was totally confused by the layout. The guards would stop every so often and change direction, no doubt in an attempt to make me lose my bearings. Eventually, I was stopped outside a sickbay and marched in. This was like no sickbay I had ever seen before, though. The medical equipment had been largely replaced by what appeared to be security equipment. I was led into a corner of the sickbay and pushed gently down on a bio-bed. The doctor appeared out of her office, an Asian woman, dressed in the familiar grey and blue of Starfleet Medical, the uniform I was still wearing. As she approached the bed, a force field sprang up around me.

"The mighty have fallen. haven't they, Doctor?" she muttered sarcastically. "I've read some of your work, what you did with that Elaysian woman, fascinating. Just think, now you'll get the time to correct all the spelling mistakes. Though I bet her family is going to be unhappy when they find out that the doctor who saved her life, also contributed to her death."

That comment hurt me down to the heart. Melora had been killed in a Dominion attack. I had been devastated when I found out. I sent a message of condolence to her family. I had hoped to get to her funeral, but the Elaysian gravity put pay to that. It was still something I regretted.

"OK doctor, standard check, please. Contagious diseases, security implants, DNA," said the Redshirt, who had been left in charge as Sloan disappeared out of the room.

"I know the drill", smiled the doctor, "I've done this enough times. Never to another doctor though, this is a first. Quite exciting, really."

"You think it's exciting that my life is being torn apart piece by piece. Does that excite you?" I replied.

It was the first time I had spoken in anger since boarding the shuttle, the whole of the way to the base, I had been quiet, resigned. The doctor was silent afterwards, though. She performed her task quickly and efficiently, scanning lifesigns, extracting my DNA and performing a routine check-up. Her final task, though, was not routine. Reaching for a hypospray out of her portable medkit, she injected me in the neck. I jumped as I felt the spray on my neck.

"Keep still. This is just a small tracking pellet, means we always know where you are. It can be detected by starships in the unlikely event of you escaping." Explained the doctor, aware of my flinch as she completed the injection.

"Very unlikely" interjected one of the guards, shifting his phaser rifle to a more comfortable position on his shoulder. The doctor laughed, mirthlessly.

"It might give you a bit of a rash on your neck" she told me,

then turning to address the guards, she announced "OK I'm done, take him somewhere else, he's just clogging up my sickbay".

With that. I was marched out of the sickbay and back into the corridors. The guards seemed more relaxed now that I had been injected with the implant. I could feel it under my skin, itching slightly, made more irritating because I could not reach to scratch at it wearing the restraints. I remembered reading in Worf's medical file that he had one of these pellets implanted under his skin by a Romulan, which his doctor had only been able to remove by beaming it out of him. She had given it to him as a souvenir, and once he had shown it to us. I had not understood why he kept it, at the time, but now I did. The pellet signified the ultimate removal of privacy, that wherever you were in your life, someone would be watching you. It was the ultimate paranoid's complex. and here it was, happening to me.

I was taken deeper inside the Starbase complex. Every so often, a forcefield would activate behind us. At first. it made me jump, but after a while, I became accustomed to the noise

We walked past many closed doors. It felt as though we had been walking forever, when I was stopped outside one door. The Yellowshirt lieutenant moved forwards and voice-activated the door. I listened as it moved smoothly open, revealing a small corridor. A flash made me jump, and I was reprimanded for the movement. I realised that it was a forcefield being dropped, and it suddenly occurred to me that I was standing in an airlock. Yellowshirt stepped behind me, and ordered me to walk forwards. This I did, trying to mask my fear by walking steadily. She then commanded me to stop, which I did so, feeling the forcefield rise behind me. She spun me round to face her and quickly removed my restraints. A few seconds later, the forcefield dropped. and Yellowshirt prodded me in the back, ordering me to walk forward.

I did so, and was again surrounded by a couple of guards. We had entered some sort of enclosure, a hexagonal room with various openings on five sides. and the door I had just walked through on the sixth. I was marched to the centre of the room, where I realised that the openings were cells, similar to those on DS9. This was it, I realised. I had arrived. Yellowshirt strode confidently to the ensign at the security console, and, nodding at me, proceeded to recite her numbers again

"Bashir, Julian. EC109557/78D, order 66715/66724 IA. FM998710167534/R N/R, provisional 97536.2".

"Understood. If you would step this way please" The ensign requested, as I was pushed forwards by a guard.

I followed him, sheep-like, to one of the openings in the room. A flash signalled the fall of a forcefield, and I was nudged gently inside. I barely had time to turn round, before the forcefield shot up again, blocking my exit, trapping me inside.

I glanced round the cell. It was similar to the holding cells on DS9, but the small entrance gave me some privacy. Against the back wall was a bench, and to one side was a bed. On it lay a sheet and a black jump-suit, which I paid little attention to. I would hold onto my Starfleet uniform for as long as I could, I was not giving that up without a fight. I took a deep breath and walked around the cell, realising how hungry I was. My first thought was simply to walk to the replicator, but I remembered in time that I could not. Instead I sat on the bench, looking out, waiting. Already I could remember the feelings of boredom and apathy from my previous prison experiences.

"Here we go again" I muttered under my breath.

It must have been a quiet night for the ensign at the panel, he wandered over to me and looked curiously at me.

"You're the Dominion spy aren't you?" He said, neutrally.

"No" I retorted angrily "I'm not a spy, this is all some mistake. Sloan is out of control. he just wants someone to blame for his son's death. But I'm innocent"

"Yeah?" He replied "everyone says that when they first arrive. If they were all true, then Internal Affairs has only ever arrested innocent people. Give us some credit, we're not that stupid."

"Some of you maybe." I commented sarcastically "Look." He answered "all the Starfleet people here hate you. Personally, I hope you die here, because at least then you can't do any more damage in the world outside. You aren't going to find it easy here at all! You could make it easier on yourself by not giving anyone an excuse to come down on you like a ton of bricks."

"How?" I replied sceptically

"Changing out of the Starfleet uniform, taking your disguise off. Sloan will just have you sedated if you refuse to change and having that on your record won't help at the hearing. I don't know why I told you that, because I don't care what happens to you, but having you sedated will just be more work for me."

"What happened to innocent until proven guilty?" I asked him, shocked at how I had already been judged by the guards

"I've seen your record" he replied "you're guilty and you know it"

He turned from the forcefield and I moved from bench to bed, feeling tired and frightened. I thought about what he said, and though I was worried by his allusions to my record. I decided to keep the uniform on. I owed it to myself, my Starfleet uniform was a part of me, and I needed to keep it on to remind myself of all the good and happy times. I threw the black uniform onto the bench wrapped myself up in the blanket and fell asleep.

I was woken by the noise of the cell being powered up. At least I knew the time, a readout on the opposite wall showed the Stardate and time. I realised that, with arriving in the middle of the night, I had only slept for a couple of hours. I stirred and sat up on the bed feeling muscles screaming out in agony, unused to the hard bed and the pressure of my tired body. A lieutenant stood at the doorway not the ensign who had been on duty last night when I had arrived. She was holding a packet of something and a bottle. I stood up and walked over to the forcefield, accepting the packets as she dropped the field and passed them through. I walked back over to the bed, TKL's again, and probably the energy drink. Still, I devoured them avidly, I was very hungry after the events of the day before.

After the meagre breakfast. I rallied myself, and was starting to feel slightly positive about the day ahead, when Sloan appeared through the entranceway, flanked by his security people. I saw him out of the corner of my eye, and quickly dodged onto the bed, out of sight. I hoped he would go to one of the other cells. However, he walked straight over to me, with barely a nod at the lieutenant at the panel. He stood at the forcefield. and waited. Eventually, I felt so intimidated by his presence that I walked out and stood facing him.

"Good morning. Were the rules not explained to you last night?" He enquired as he eyed my Starfleet uniform, massaging his temples as though he had a headache.

"Nope. Guess, your guards aren't as good as you think they are" I replied, trying to incite him.

"Rights and responsibilities, if you like, Doctor." He said, ignoring my aggressive tone, "Oh well, obviously not. You have the right to be fed every 6 hours during the daytime 5 on journeys. You have the right to consent to any medical treatment which is not directly related to security. You also have the right to 6 hours sleep a night with all non-essential lights powered down. However, with rights, there are also responsibilities. You have a responsibility to obey the rules. In this facility. you are not permitted to wear anything other than the official uniform." Sloan sounded bored, as though he had made this speech many times

"This is mine, it a part of me you can't take" I responded desperately. It was true, Starfleet was just as much a part of me as I was of it.

"In case you weren't listening last night, I'll remind you that you were expelled from Starfleet. I'm not going to argue with you any more, Doctor, so if you have not changed by 1100 hours, I will have you sedated and dressed and this will go on your file. Understood?" He told me, in the icy tones of one who expects to be obeyed.

I sat for a long time after he left, wondering what to do. My uniform meant something to me, but at the same time, I was destined to lose it, regardless. It occurred to me that if I took it off now, I would be able to keep my rank insignia, they were small and could be concealed somewhere in the cell. I stood up and pulled my uniform off slowly. I replaced it with the black jump-suit, feeling hollow inside as I did so. I realised that I was handing over an important part of my life, and I stood cradling the uniform in an attempt, I suppose, to come to terms with the events of the past 48 hours. I was still standing, shocked, when I heard footsteps and the hiss of the fulling forcefield of the outer door. Hastily I removed my rank insignia from the uniform, and placed the two magnetic studs under the mattress of my bed. I had just got them well hidden when Sloan's round, though hard face appeared at the doorway.

"Well, well, someone learns the rules quickly, Doctor. Oh well, so how do you feel now you are not wearing the grey and blue of Starf1eet any more?"

"It's just another uniform" I replied bitterly "this one, that one." I gestured at the Starfleet uniform. "Maybe they are all equally as bad." I was trying to appear nonchalant, to hide my feelings from Sloan, but I could hear the bitter undertone in my voice.

"Ah Doctor. see there is where your reasoning is flawed" said Sloan as he tapped his teeth with a PADD in an expression, I assumed, of irritation. "This uniform," he indicated his own red Starfleet colours "shows that I am a responsible member of a quadrant wide organisation, which is determined to protect its members, and even those who do not belong to it. It shows that I have integrity and strength of mind, it also shows that I have authority over others and that I am part of a supportive network of billions, all there willing to assist me should I require it. Your uniform, on the other hand, shows that you are a criminal, more than that, that you are traitor to the Federation. because normal criminals don't wear it. It shows that you have betrayed people, caused deaths, maybe even committed murder. It also shows that you have no support, that you are on your own, isolated from every single person in this galaxy, even the Dominion. because they don't want to be tied to a captured operative."

I cracked halfway through his speech. It all got too much and I could feel myself desperately holding back tears. I realised what he was saying, that there really was no hope, and I hated every word. Even my friends on D59 would surely abandon me now, even my parents would believe I was a traitor. Seeing the effect his words had on me, he silently signalled to the guards and let the forcefield down. They rushed in and pinned me to the wall as he grabbed the Starfleet uniform from the bed where it lay. As I saw this happen from the corner of my eye, I collapsed in the guard's arms, feeling more isolated than I had ever felt before. I began to weep softly and the security guards, seeing my distress, carefully laid me on the bed as Sloan left. I curled up. going foetal as the tears flowed, hating myself for becoming this weak. I could taste the saltiness on my lips, feel the moisture on my cheeks, as I sobbed and sobbed.

I lay there for a long time. After I finished crying, I was so exhausted and drained that I remained curled up on the bed. holding my blanket tightly. I stared blankly at the opposite wall, seeing only greyness and the searing white band of the forcefield. Harsh, institutional colours. I was dehydrated. much of my body water soaked my bed in salty tears, or so it seemed. As if reading my thoughts, the lieutenant strolled over to my cell carrying a bottle. She looked me up and down and said simply

"If you die of dehydration. I would never hear the end of it." before lowering the forcefield and

placing the bottle in the doorway.

I got up and grabbed for it. I was incredibly thirsty, and as I unscrewed the lid with the desperation of a dying man, I smelled real water. No energy drink just cool water. I gulped it down, feeling as I did so, an amazing sense of well-being. I knew that this sensation was all artificial and came from the sudden rehydration, however, even this knowledge could not dampen my sense of elation. The smell of water filled my cell, though I drank every drop. I closed my eves, and remembered my grandfather's home on Earth, on the banks of the Nile, where the river would bring coolness to the boiling days and at dusk, the smell of the river would bring every person outside into their fields to breathe and feel contented. Thinking about my grandfather brought more memories. I sat for a time in the mists of nostalgia, remembering when my grandfather sat and tried to teach me Arabic, an ancient Earth language. I had picked it up easily, that had been before I had known about my modification and when people still believed I had a natural gift for languages. He had shown me a precious family heirloom, a religious book, from when religion was the guiding force on Earth. I remembered being able to understand the words, but not their meaning. I had been fascinated, I had visited temples which he said had belonged to that religion and those before it, but had never understood what the book meant, what concepts were being discussed. I felt in that situation now. I understood the words, but not their meaning. I could understand where I was, but not why.

I was about to get an idea. Sloan and his compatriots re-entered the room and again walked over to my cell. The guards again entered it, this time they were carrying the wrist restraints. I was again pinned to the wall, but this time, I was facing the guards and the restraints were slid onto my wrists. I was marched out of my cell and out of the cellblock and taken to a conference room just down the corridor. It was a small, intimidating room, with three chairs on one side of a large table, and one on the other. I was pushed into the single chair, facing a painting of a starship blasting out of a nebula, warp nacelles shining with powerful light. Somehow, the painting just increased the tense atmosphere of the room. I was gazing at it when Sloan, an older man and a woman entered through a side door.

"Doctor, this is Admiral Tim'Anna" Sloan introduced a heavy set man bearing admiral's rank.

He did not tell me the name of' the woman who carried a PADD and I was unable to tell much about her, though I suspected from her prominent cheekbones and wide eyes that she was Betazoid. Sent to scan me, I wondered, as my interrogation began.

For many hours, it felt, I was bombarded by questions. At first they were routine, asking me to give information that they must already have been aware of. All the time, the woman made notes on the PADD, becoming faster and more preoccupied as the questions became more stretching. Sloan was asking me about 371, before switching to questions on my genetic makeup and Bopak III. The questions were basically the same as those he asked at DS9, but he demanded more in-depth answers, using every hesitation as an opportunity to accuse me. Finally, with Tim'Anna looking on, Sloan rose from his chair and pushed his face within centimetres of mine, he started shouting at me.

"You were captured by them, and then you agreed to spy for them, didn't you! To save your sorry little ass, because you were afraid to die. You called yourself a Starfleet officer. You're nothing."

It was frightening, I tried to get up. to escape him, but I was pushed harshly back into my chair by the guards. He carried on shouting. I was sitting, trying not to scream back at him. He would not stop. He carried on. Again and again, demanding answers to his shouted questions. Tim'Anna rose, and came to sit on the corner of the desk near me. He was watching his colleague's actions, a grim smile on his face. The guards by the door moved closer, watching me. I could no longer cope with the screaming, the pressure. I was surrounded, trapped. All through this, the woman made notes on her PADD as if she did not care. The noise spread around me, the bleeping of the PADD, Sloan's voice, the whirr of life support getting louder, everything. I just cracked, exhaustion, pressure and stress took over and I started shouting back.

"I did nothing wrong. I did nothing wrong" I shouted desperately, over and over again, my voice rising in pitch, before noticing that mine was the only voice in the room.

I stopped, and then Sloan gestured to the guard to take me back. Numbly, I held out my wrists, allowing the guards to replace the restraints, and was escorted back in silence. In my cell, the guards removed the restraints and left me standing in the middle of my cell, trembling. I was so afraid, I felt the same fear as when I witnessed the destruction of the Odyssey by Jem'Hadar forces. As I saw the destruction, I realised that I was seeing a force that could tear my world apart, and I knew that Sloan could do the same thing. He had already taken everything I knew from me, now all he needed to do was carry out his threat to break me. I stood, only barely aware of the gaze of the guard. My reverie was interrupted as Yellowshirt entered the cell area, carrying a PADD. She curtly glanced at me, before handing it to the guard on duty, who nodded in my direction. I suddenly wondered if this was a positive sign, if someone had discovered the mistake and if I was soon to be on my way back to DS9. I held my breath in anticipation as Yellowshirt left and the guard strolled over to the door.

"Well. You obviously made an impression somewhere, getting association so early."

I looked at her, uncomprehending.

"You will be permitted to associate with the other inmates today. Doesn't normally happen so soon. Enjoy it."

With that, she strolled over to the console and began entering commands. Once the sequence was complete, the console powered down, and she walked hastily towards the exit-way. A minute later, the cell force-fields dropped.

I stood, bemused, not knowing what to do. I watched as people left the other cells, bringing their mattresses with them. Some even carried the distinctive silver ration packets. I followed their example and, picking up my mattress, left the cell. The other inmates were all laying their mattresses down on the floor, and greeting others. Tentatively, I walked out and placed my own mattress down on the ground, outside the immediate circle. I felt uncomfortable enough meeting new people especially under the circumstances.

A Bajoran woman was first to greet me. She stood up and walked over to where I was sitting.

"Hey. Akasi, who are you? What's your name'." She asked in an acerbic voice. remarkably similar to that of Major Kira.

I wondered idly if it was some Bajoran trait as I summed her up and decided whether to answer.

I.ook. I don't bite." She continued "But hey, if you want to go through life here without knowing anyone I'll go away. just don't blame me for being friendly."

Forcing a deep breath I responded

"I'm Julian Bashir. I used to be the doctor at DS9, until Sloan brought me here. How about you?"

The Bajoran looked at me for a moment, then moved back to her mattress and sat down.

"I'm Ro Laren. I am Maquis, used to be Starfleet. This" she said, pointing to a Ktarian sitting next to her "is kabe'Etana Tal, from Starfleet, Jamatina Leclerc from Starfleet, Sonak from the Vulcan Unificationist movement and Ben Tamler from the Maquis. They both used to be in Starfleet too, spot the pattern?" She laughed sarcastically.

"Roll call," the man named as Tamler announced dryly. "Every time there is a new face we go through it. So anyway, we've some time to kill here, its slightly less boring out here than in there, tell us more about why you are here. We can swap stories."

"Ah hell. Ben" muttered the woman identified as Jamatina "trust you to come up with interesting things to do. Oh well then" she sighed with resignation. "Who goes first?"

"New faces up first, I always think. We've all heard our stories before" answered kabe'Etana

"But come into the circle Akasi, er... Julian and we can talk"

So I began a brief summary of the story behind my incarceration, sitting on a mattress in a room guarded by security holding phaser rifles. I had no doubt that these would be set to kill.

I took a deep breath as I finished my story. I was shocked at how matter of fact I could be. At least when I had been in 371, I had been able to justify myself, to tell people I had been asleep then woken up there. Here, I had no such qualification to add.

Kabe'Etana began next.

"I was in Starfleet, I was a Conn officer, an ensign. Just your average ensign, you know, Academy graduate, fresh out" I laughed quietly as she began her story remembering myself when I first arrived on DS9. She glared at me so I apologised and signalled for her to continue.

"I served on the Cairo under Captain Jellicoe. Old ship, nothing special. I tried for the Enterprise. As it was, it was a pretty good thing I didn't get it, otherwise I doubt I would be here I'd probably be dead."

"Why?" I asked, uncomprehending.

"You remember that incident a few years back. When a Ktarian tried to take control of the Enterprise and Starfleet Academy? She was a rebel, and determined to conquer the Federation. Anyway, she was captured and extradited. Her name was Etana Jol."

I noticed the similarity of the names, and must have showed some response. because suddenly kabe'Etana looked up at me, eyes blazing and defiant.

"She was my Neema. I loved her, as a Neema should be loved. I applied to speak to her when she was in Rehab, to send a message to her. Until then, no one knew we were related. Once they found out, I became a security risk, and Sloan came to demand that I renounce her and forget her relationship to me. I could no more renounce my relationship to my Neema than you could pretend that your mother never gave birth to you. So I was brought here. I committed no crime, but they found evidence. Said I had communicated with her when she had control of the Enterprise. Then they started telling me that I was some sort of Ktarian agent, that there was a secret organisation who had given Ktaria to the Cardassians, and that I was a part. They had some convincing evidence, too. Not that it's true."

I gasped. I finally realised that I was not alone, that others were here for the same twisted reasons, namely that Sloan believed them to be spies or traitors. I was worried by kabe'Etana's statement that she had been here for years, without trial. I realised that I could just disappear out of the system with no one knowing where I was. I wondered if my friends would forget me, as their lives continued on DS9.

I was aware that Jamatina was preparing to talk, I focussed on her voice and began to listen. I could sense that my, up to that point, unshakeable faith in Starfleet was about to be damaged, if not destroyed. Her first words startled me.

"My father was a Cardassian". She began.

"My mother was a civilian, she worked on one of the non-aligned worlds, outside Federation borders, when the Federation was still fighting the Romulans and the Cardassians had not made diplomatic contact. The world was close to the border, she was working on reconstruction, she was an environmental engineer and this world, N'ara IV, had been hit by a serious natural disaster, a super- volcano that triggered a nuclear winter. She and others heard about the plight of the world and left, believing that humanitarian work was what humans were designed to do. They were followers of the group of theoreticians who believed that humanity had evolved beyond what it had been . We learn about them now at school, but then, it was revolutionary. Anyway, she met a Cardassian when his ship, crippled by ion storms and disrepair, crash-landed into the northern regions. The Cardassian, my father, was seriously injured and she spent months nursing him. They fell in love, she found him so sensitive and kind, he loved her warmth and passion. You're a doctor, you know the odds of producing a Cardassian/Human child without medical assistance?"

"Yes." I replied "millions to one. In fact, I would say that it is medically impossible."

"Oh no doctor, that is where you are wrong" Jamatina laughed without humour.

"I am a Human/Cardassian. See, I have the ridges, you can hardly see them, but they are there."

I glanced at her. I suddenly realised how many Cardassian features she had. Her ridges were barely visible, but she had the long, thick black hair of a Cardassian woman, plaited neatly and wound around her head. Her skin was human-coloured, though, there was none of the deathly pallor of the Cardassian about her.

"No-one knew. I told people who asked about my hair or my ridges that my father had been Askrian. they have been in the Federation so long that I was considered acceptable. I told this to everyone. Starfleet Academy, all of them. Of course, there was no way to find my real father, he left during the coup. when the military first took over on Cardassia Prime. He told my mother that he had to go back and fight for a better Cardassia. She believed him. He went back, and my mother continued her work whilst raising me. She decided to go back to Earth, and was able to get passage on a Starship. It was then that I decided I wanted to join Starfleet. I worked so hard, and was posted on the Wellington. then the Intrepid. I worked fine, I became a lieutenant. All until we were requested to give samples for Changeling testing. Finally, they found that my DNA was Cardassian. My crew stood by me, but Internal Affairs could not believe that I was not an agent, and so I ended up here. I have been here for a year and a half now. I will remain here until the Cardassians are no longer a threat, then I will be quietly moved to some civilian job, knowing that they are always watching me. I was loyal to Starfleet, my father was loyal to Cardassia, so here I am. A punishment for my loyalty, my father's belief and my DNA."


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3 – Drowning._

It was incredible, listening to the stories of these two women, what Starfleet had done. My own memories of Academy laughs and fun seemed so superficial when compared to these stories. I felt embarrassed listening to them, and ever believing that Starfleet was right and just. I know we were fighting a war, but surely this could not be justified?

"Maybe" I said hesitantly, wary of how to respond after such powerful stories. "Someone will find out what's happening here. They can't keep taking innocent Starfleet officers without people asking questions."

"Natara, keep believing that" replied Jamatina.

I looked surprised at the alien word she used and, noticing my surprise, she laughed.

"Cardassian for "keep hope alive in your mind, because there isn't anything else left for you in your body. Very Cardassian, I thought when I learnt it. There was something I meant to add to my story. Before they knew who I was, I was trained in the Cardassian language to be a negotiator. An important job, one with lots of prestige. I was good, too, Hah!"

The bitterness in her voice was all too evident. I heard Laren behind me, quietly muttering to Tamler

"At least we knew what we were doing".

I turned, to see Tamler's response, and noticed him nodding quietly. He looked up and noticed that I had heard. I felt compelled to comment.

"What did you do?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

"What?" Exclaimed Laren. startled by my voice. "Oh. Maquis! That's all you need say really. Cardassians left my friends and comrades to die and then IA took me away".

Her eyes burned with revolutionary intensity as she turned to look at me. I was reminded of Eddington, who was passionate about his cause in just the same way. She opened her mouth again, to continue her story when she was interrupted by a member of the security detail in the doorway.

"OK, that's it, one hour. Back you go"

I waited to see their response. Gradually people began to shift, standing up and stretching.

"Move, move!" was the cry from the doorway, and we all began to move quickly back to the cells.

The others seemed to have learned what happened if you delayed further, as they were all quick to return. I ducked back into my cell, and heard a short countdown before the force-field came up, and an ensign took up his position at the security console again.

I suddenly felt very energised. I was desperate to go for a run, or at least to do something. I mooched around for a while, sat down, got up again, feeling all the while like a small child on a rainy day. I lay on the ground and began to do press-ups. The exercise was soothing and calmed my nerves. I lost count of how many I did, I just kept on going, until I was too exhausted to do any more. I sat on the bench looking out through the field, feeling strangely relaxed. Endorphins, I thought, and smiled to myself. I would have to find ways of remembering all that I know. Maybe I could get hold of a PADD and write things down. Who knows? I thought, and drifted into a daydream of what I was going to say to Sloan next time, what I would do, how I would win the respect of the others. It was a pleasant daydream and I must have dozed off into gentle sleep.

I woke to the sound of the ensign distributing rations. I accepted my packet and bottle and drank heavily, the exercise had left me thirsty. Curling up on the bed I then slept dreamlessly until the cells were powered up in the morning. I glanced up at the display opposite the cell, and realised that I had slept for nearly 10 hours. I was slightly shocked. I had never thought that boredom combined with moments of pressure could be so tiring.

I waited all morning for the call to interrogation. It did not come. Instead. I busied myself tidying my meagre possessions, folding my blanket and improving my hiding places. I only ate half the TKL's that were given to me for breakfast, and discreetly hid the remainder. They were unpalatable. and I longed for real food. I was also desperate for some action. I was wandering aimlessly round my cell trying to get rid of the adrenaline burning within me. I stopped for a minute. to try to calm my nerves and heard, over the noise of the life support systems, a low chanting. Walking to my cell door and looking out, I saw Ro Laren standing in her cell, chanting. I listened, the long, drawn-out syllables filling the air. I noticed that the others in the other cells were standing to listen. Even Sonak stopped his meditation to listen. I felt at peace, the Bajoran words were beautiful and I was reminded of the times that I had heard both Nerys and the Captain use them.

The chanting seemed to bring calmness to the whole room, and for a minute both us and the guard on the console were united. Then this feeling was broken like a stone going through ice by Sloan's voice, echoing loudly as he walked through the airlock. I took a step back from the force-field. expecting him to drop it and march in my cell. Instead, the guards went over to Sonak's cell, and led Sonak out. Though he was wearing restraints, Sonak was able to maintain quiet dignity. I guessed by the way the others were watching him that they envied his calm, and later that day I would see why.

I sat in the cell, feeling awkward. I was not sure what to do with myself. I moved and sat on the bench facing the door, looking out. I could see that Ben was writing on a PADD, Laren was asleep on her bench. Time dragged so slowly. I could not believe that five days ago, I had still been the CMO of DS9. I sighed, and sat on the bench, watching my feet. An air of apathy hung over the whole cell block like a fog, it was very quiet, so quiet that I could hear the air vents roaring away in some hidden part of the room. Sighing again, I slid off my bench and began the MoK'Bara which Worf had begun to teach me when I had been on DS9. Focussing on my breathing, I performed the ritual movements, repeating the few I knew over and over, oxygenating my blood and stretching my muscles.

I started to invent my own moves, allowing them to follow naturally from the ones I already knew. I used springball actions to form my moves, letting my arms sweep through the air. I began to experiment with ways to stretch all my muscles, and as I did so, I remembered Worf on 371. He had taught the MoK'Bara as way of keeping ourselves ready for action, as those who appeared weak would be the first to be taken into the ring and forced to face the Jem'Hadar guards.

As I moved, I thought about 371 more deeply. I remembered that prison vividly. I had been there just over a month. But there I had been tense all the time, looking over my shoulder, never letting my guard down, never appearing weak. It had been the only way to survive, as Martok had taught me. In this prison, I was feeling bored. I realised that I was relaxing, and I worried that I was becoming too soft, too accustomed to my fate, and that I would miss a chance when it came. In that moment, I resolved to complete the moves of the MoK'Bara every day, and to keep myself in perfect fitness, both in mind and body until my chance came. I laughed at the déjà vu. I had said the same things when I had been at 371.

However, eventually I stopped exercising and fell back into apathy. An atmosphere of boredom and lassitude hung over the cell block, sapping my strength. The atmosphere broke, though, with all the suddenness of a summer storm, as Sonak appeared in the doorway, tied with restraints and flanked by guards. As if a silent signal passed between cells, everyone sat up and watched. We all knew that now Sonak was back. any of us could be next.

The tension in the air did not dissipate as we were given lunch. We were all waiting to know who would be next, the atmosphere was palpable and Laren especially, looked worried. Sloan and his posse marched in just as we were eating and entered Laren's cell. A few seconds later, they emerged with Laren walking between them, restrained. I watched with a horrible feeling of relief, ashamed at myself for being glad that it was her not me. I remembered this from when I was at 371, every time the guards entered our barrack, I had been relieved when they took others to fight them rather than me. I was amazed at how much of that experience came back to me now I was here. I had buried so much of it. that it was all flying back now. I tried to push it back down and think instead of happy times on DS9.

The daydreams continued. I remembered drinks at Quark's and playing darts. The time three years ago when I was hopelessly beaten by O'Brien at springball. I remembered when Miles and I were trapped in a bunker, him with injury from a Harvester weapon, when we had become friends. Even when we had both been confined to a holding cell for fighting drunkenly on the promenade. Happier times, which made the pain here so much worse. Just as I was feeling myself sink again into depression, Laren returned. Her feet dragged along the floor as two guards marched her along, hands under her shoulders. They put her into her cell, laying her gently on the bench and quietly removing her restraints. As soon as they left, she sat up with her head in her hands, sobbing quietly. We all stared for maybe a second before busying ourselves, avoiding her eye.

Her sobbing, quiet as it was, echoed around the cell block, breaking the silence. I realised that I must have made the same noise when I came in, when I had been in tears, and I was suddenly embarrassed. I wondered if everyone had gone through the same thing when they had arrived here. I could not mull over it for long, though because the guards called for association early. Maybe they sensed that Laren needed our support, or maybe they were just bored.

Obediently we all trooped out with mattresses and TKL's. Laren hesitated before Ben waved to her to come out. She lowered her head, as if ashamed of herself and came into the circle. I sat awkwardly, not knowing what to do, when kabe'Etana put her hand gently on Laren's shoulder. She clutched Etana's hand and sobbed, curling in on herself. Finally she seemed to pull herself together. Plucking up courage. I turned to her and asked

What happened in there?"

She glanced up at the sound of my voice and exploded.

"They think I'm scum because of who I am. They hate the Maquis and they hate me. They think its my fault that all these people have died in the war against the Dominion. Nothing I say can ever convince them I'm not a Dominion agent. My father was killed by Cardassians when I was twelve, isn't that enough proof that I would not work for them? They even throw Garon II at me as evidence. I've paid for that and then some but they still can't leave it behind"

I looked at her quizzically. and she carried on.

"When I was in Starfleet. I killed my away team. I made a mistake. I misjudged the situation and they died for it. I would have died to save them if I could. I tried to save others, no Starfleet people were killed by my Maquis cell. But they don't care, they blame me for millions of deaths, and I do nothing, I just sit there and take it. They even tell me that I killed my Maquis cell, and I don't fight them, I don't do anything, I just let them say it. If I could, I would kill myself but I haven't found a way to do it yet." Her voice was full of anger and hurt, and I was shocked by her admission.

After this outburst, she fell silent. The only response of the others was Ben's gentle touch on her arm, and we all sat in silence, not knowing what to say. I sensed that everyone in the cellblock had felt the same way at some time, and had looked for the easy escape. Jamatina, conscious perhaps of the atmosphere and the danger such tensions can cause with people's psyches, brought out a small wrapped parcel from the sleeve of her jump-suit.

"Have some rations", she said "eat something."

With this she offered us her TKL's. Remembering, I removed mine from where I had hidden them in the leg of my suit and offered them around as well. Laren refused her share, instead offering it to Ben. Ben pushed the slice of TKL back, over and over. Finally, with a look of disdain. Sonak waded into the silent argument. I guessed by everyone's expressions that this was rare.

"You should attempt to conserve your strength for when you most need it. Ro Laren" intoned Sonak in his deep, sonorous voice. "It is illogical to refuse food when you are hungry and it is offered, for soon you may be hungry yet without food. Take and use what you have now for you will be caught unawares if circumstances change tomorrow."

Laren looked up, startled by his words.

"I can't eat them. I keep seeing my friend's faces and wondering who lived and who died. It makes me sick to the stomach."

Then, with a wry smile, she added

"Don't worry, Sonak. I get this way sometimes. After my father was murdered. I didn't eat for three weeks."

But" replied Sonak "If you deny yourself food and die whilst they are flourishing, then you have died for no purpose. If on the other hand, they are dying or in pain, then you cannot help them if you are weak from lack of nourishment."

"OK Sonak. logic beat me. I'll eat something if it means you'll leave me alone!"

Laren pushed a bit of TKI. into her mouth. She was careful to hide the rest as the guard shifted position and called the time up. Back we all went to lie on benches and sit in silence until the cells were powered down. I sat on my bed, swinging my feet carelessly, not really thinking of anything. It was like being in stasis, alive but at the same time, strangely dead. The feeling continued for hours, until finally the cells powered down. I lay on my bed, not expecting to sleep at all, however, in the semi-darkness, I felt a wave of tiredness wash over me, and I fell into a deep sleep.

I woke before the cells were powered up for morning. Moving silently, I slipped up to the forcefield hoping to see what the other were doing. Most were awake, sitting on benches or the floor. Laren was standing in the meditation posture, and as the cell powered up, she began the chant which transfixed us all.

The guard who gave out the breakfast TKL told her rudely to shut up. We were all suddenly saddened by the interruption, the chant was one of the most beautiful parts of the day, and for her to be stopped before it was finished was as wrong-feeling as a captain being stopped partway through their log. For some reason, all the guards were on edge. Ben, Laren, Jamatina and I caught the brunt of the irritation of the guards, and from this I assumed that the Federation had suffered some sort of loss. I assumed that Sloan would choose this day to come and put pressure on us to "confess," however, he never appeared. Instead, we were harangued constantly all day.

At lunch, our TKL's were almost thrown into our cells, and were all broken up and crumbly. Laren raised her voice to complain about the standard of rations, and the response of the guards was to summarily deny us association time. I spent the whole day without any human contact, when we tried to shout through the forcefields at each other, the ensign at the security console lowered the riot doors. These doors were thick, dull metal, which fell on the outside of the forcefield. sealing me in the small space. It was strange form of suspension. like being in a one-person shuttlepod.

I felt so isolated in the sealed cell. I could not hear a thing from the outside and even when I started shouting wildly at the top of my voice, I was not heard. For a moment this gave me a wild euphoria, I sang half remembered songs from my childhood. Miles' Irish drinking songs and Bajoran chants learnt from Major Kira. This soon faded, though, I suddenly felt very alone. Music needs company, in the bleakness of my sealed cell, it found none, and died, sadly in the air. The minutes crept by and I wondered if I was being left to die in the cell, alone and forgotten.

I started to think there had been an attack, and that every one was dead except me. I could not get at the door because of the forcefield, and was left pacing my cell, feeling intensely claustrophobic. I finally identified with Garak, and his feelings in 371. I was sure the walls were closing in and that the grey cube was shrinking. I thought I had been left to die, and that the oxygen in the cell was depleting. If it was sealed, I reasoned, there could only be a certain amount of O2 in there. What if there was not enough? I began to hyperventilate, gasping for breath, feeling incredibly stupid as I did so, but unable to stop. Finally I regained some control, and sat on the bench, curling up to protect myself. Eventually, I pulled my blanket over my head. The warm, womblike darkness was the only thing that could truly calm me down.


	4. Chapter 4

_Silence and Speaking_

The riot door was raised several hours later. I blinked as my small space suddenly opened up.

We were fed as usual, though our food was thrown into the cells again. I was not hungry, though I tried to eat a little bit of TKL, but they caught in my throat, and I could not bring myself to swallow. Instead, I stood up to do some exercises, but I could not find any energy and soon sat back down, staring at my boots. I just sat for many hours, not thinking, not feeling anything, just numbness washing across myself.

However, when lights-out came, I fell asleep almost immediately, into a deep sleep without any dreams. I awoke the next morning feeling as exhausted as I had the night before. Again, I was not hungry, but I forced food into my mouth, too uncertain about what lay ahead to risk facing the day with low blood sugar. It was the right decision. I was taken to interrogation, back into the room with the painting of the starship and the Betazoid sitting in her corner. Tim'Anna and Sloan on one side of the table and me and the guards on the other.

"Well" began Sloan. Calmly, in a civil, almost friendly tone. "Today I just need you to clarify a few things. For our records. Starfleet is not 100 sure that its records are accurate, as you can appreciate, with the war, information changes so quickly and is difficult to keep track of"

"Yes?" I responded, non-committally

"I assume that means you'll co-operate. First, the second in command of DS9 is a Major Kira of the Bajoran Militia. But who is the second in command in the Starfleet hierarchy?"

"Lieutenant Jadzia Dax." I answered, feeling that his question was harmless. "But you visited the station not so long ago, you must know yourself. Why ask me?" I couldn't help adding, however.

"You should be grateful that we are asking you." replied Sloan "This gives you the opportunity to show that you are willing to co-operate. It works in your favour. OK, now. Your father is currently subject to the Federation Rehabilitation Programme for crimes relating to your illegal genetic modifications?"

"You know yourself. Why bother dragging this up with me?" I was still bitter over the way my father had been treated, he had been doing his best for me, and he did not deserve to have been punished in the way he had.

"I would advise you not to get confrontational" Threatened Tim'Anna.

Sloan then continued "Whilst at DS9, you were friendly with a Cardassian." Sloan picked up a PADD and glanced at it. "Garak. What was his position on the station, and why did you choose to associate with him?"

At last, an opportunity to redeem myself by knowing a Cardassian who, as a rebel, who had been exiled from his people. I was sure that this would convince Sloan that I was no traitor, no Dominion spy.

"Garak worked as a tailor aboard DS9" I began. "He had been exiled from Cardassia some years before, and DS9 was the only place he could find shelter. I got to know him through his visits to the Infirmary. He even supported us when we attacked Cardassian space."

"By us. you mean the crew of DS9?" Interrupted Sloan.

"Yes," I replied simply.

The questions continued, a range from space station operations, through to encounters with the Dominion in Starfleet attacks, and simple questions on other members of the DS9 crew. There were no questions which I felt could harm anyone else, so I answered them all, feeling that by being co-operative, they would realise sooner that this was a mistake.

Suddenly Sloan looked directly at me and said "Why did you attempt to cure the Jem'Hadar of' their addiction to Ketracel White when they captured you on Bopak III?"

I started. I realised his trap. I had been lulled by the gentle questions and now I was being cornered. "The Jem'Hadar on that planet were suffering, they were in pain and as a doctor, I couldn't stand by and do nothing. You know my reason already"

"Why did you feel it was your duty to care for them?" continued Sloan. as though my first answer had not been clear enough!

"Because I could care for them, and I was the only person on Bopak who could. Because everyone has the right to medical care, regardless of whose side they're on. Because if we forget our humanitarian principles, then we are no better than the Dominion."

"So." replied Tim'Anna. "Do you help the sick on an planet you visit? Do you deliberately go out of your way to spend all your time in hospitals, being humanitarian?"

His voice dripped sarcasm.

"There was no-one else on Bopak for them. If I am the only one who can help. I will do so, regardless of ideology. race or anything. If you are so ignorant that you can see no further than what side people are on, then I pity you."

I was feeling exhilarated by my words. They did not stop the interrogation, though, and eventually, after hours in the chair, I was so tired I just sat in morose silence, waiting for them to finish, not bothering to reply.

The interrogation had shaken me out of the depression which had hung over me since the day before. However, when I returned to the loneliness of the cell, I sank again, and, though I had excess adrenaline in my body from the interrogation, I just could not move. I spent more hours sitting, staring at my boots and daydreaming, seeing hazy images come from my imagination, but unable to focus on any one idea or thought. The more I thought about the interrogation, the more I worried that I had implicated someone from DS9. I wondered if maybe Sloan was attempting to gather evidence on another member of the crew, and this was why I had been treated this way. Why would he be attacking me to reach someone else? Who did he think I could implicate? The thoughts went round and round in my head.

Finally, association time shook me out of the depression. The chance to engage with other people was so refreshing, and I plucked up the courage to ask Laren about her chant, wondering what it meant, and why she sang it.

"It's the morning chant" she told me. "I sing it to welcome a new day and to remember my friends who do not see it. It's strange. I was never religious until my Maquis cell were killed. I told you that they found me, the one survivor of a Cardassian attack, hiding on J2-IV. Well it was when I was there that I re-discovered my religion. I found my Bajoran identity with the Maquis, and I found my religious identity huddled amongst their dead bodies."

I was silent after her explanation. Religion had ceased to be an important part of any human's life many years ago and I had always felt uneasy during Bajoran festivals, when I was surrounded by outpourings of religious fervour. The atmosphere in the cell block became heavy as Laren's words reminded us of our friends and loved ones who had been lost and for the first time, I envied that religious commitment, which gave someone the strength of purpose to fight for what they believed in.

Ben broke the atmosphere, though, by leaning over to me, and saying, dryly

"All this from the woman who arrived in the Maquis thinking that a Pagh-Wraith was a type of Andorian pudding"

"I did not" laughed Laren shoving Ben forward on his mattress

"Oh yeah," he said, his words muffled. " That's not what you said when we were in the Terikoff Belt"

The guards were looking suspiciously at us, and noticing their attention. Laren and Ben sat up quickly. Ben's actions had broken the sadness, though. We were all smiling, watching their banter. Laren, with a glance at Jamatina, grabbed a handful of Ben's jump-suit and pinged it back against his skin. He started, with such a surprised face that we all burst out laughing, and the looks of the guards, who were obviously shocked at our laughter, made it all the more funny.

We were sent back to our cells still giggling. I sat, relaxed, on the bench with a view of the other cells, and Laren noticed me enough to pull a face. I smiled, and discreetly stuck my tongue out at her. The guard swung around, noticing our joke, and marched over to my cell opening.

"Communication outside of association time is forbidden he said brusquely

"Any further violations will be noted"

For a moment, I was tempted to stick my tongue out at him, but I held myself back, and instead moved out of Laren's sight. Once the guard was satisfied we could no longer see each other, he walked away.

Life on the Starbase fell into a routine of meals, association and interrogation. Occasionally during interrogation, I answered questions willingly, if they did not seem to endanger anyone, but gradually I became more intransigent in interrogation. I even went so far as to stand up and shout in Sloan's face, which led to me being restrained and held under riot guard for two days.

I became almost accustomed to the hours of loneliness and daydreaming which took up my days. I was always thinking about DS9, and I would often find myself looking at the clock embedded on the wall of the cellblock. I would try to imagine what people were doing then, where everyone was, where I would be. I was daydreaming myself through entire duty shifts, imagining the various medical problems I would see.

After about a month, maybe longer, Sloan came into the cellblock late after association. He walked over to my cell, clutching a PADD.

"You're about ready to get some comms time, Doctor. You're doing very well, being very co-operative. So, in return, here is your opportunity to get something in exchange. Just write the names of six people you could communicate with, in rank order. We'll see what we can do"

With this, he lowered the forcefield, and one of his guards handed the PADD through the doorway. I held it in my hands, thinking.

I stayed awake all night thinking about my chance to communicate with the universe outside the starbase. I held the PADD tightly in my hand, and by wakeup I had decided. I entered the names slowly at first, my fingers had not touched a PADD for a while, but then with more and more confidence. Once I had finished, I looked down, happy with my choices.

"Can you give this to Sloan?" I asked as the guard gave out breakfast.

"Maybe, maybe not" she responded. and I felt so crushed.

She did not understand how the PADD was my lifeline and that she had destroyed it as easily as a fist squashing a butterfly back on Earth.

I was not called to interrogation at all that day. I spent the whole time thinking about the PADD and my comms time, planning what I was going to say, rehearsing conversations in my head. I felt a bit strange doing this. Until a month ago, I thought nothing of just opening a channel to a friend and having that chance to see their face, but now communication was an exciting event, to be planned in every detail.

Even during association, I was not fully listening to the conversations people were having. I was so far into my daydream, I nearly jumped out of my skin when Laren turned round and said loudly, in my face

"What's bothering you today? You're almost as silent as Sonak!"

Before I could answer. Sonak took a breath and said

"I unlike yourself, Ro Laren, do not feel the need to fill even moment of our association time with mindless chatter just because we can. I will discuss with you any matter I feel needs discussing when it needs to be discussed"

"And anyway" Ben chipped in, diffusing the tirade we were sure Laren was about to start against Sonak. "Haven't you heard? Julian's got Comm's. First time. No wonder he isn't completely with us!"

"Oh. I was wondering when Sloan would back down and give you some comms. normally you get your first lot of time early in your third week. And if you're getting time, then maybe it won't be long before my comms time comes up too. They've been mean with it. the last few months. Now my Tarn'ya will be worried," complained kabe'Etana.

I realised that comms was an exciting event for everyone, when they spoke about my time, there was an air of excitement in the cellblock. I felt it too, the prospect of being able to connect with those outside my new life was so exciting. I was looking forward to choosing whom I would speak to, as I could see no reason why anyone on my list would be deemed "unsuitable".

I was given the comms PADD later that evening, after evening meal. Looking down, all I could see was rejection after rejection. It seemed that my comms time would be worthless, because none of the people I wished to communicate with were approved. I started to feel panicky and very upset. Forcing myself to slow my breathing. I read the list slowly.

"Sisko, Captain Benjamin-rejected.

Bashir, Mrs. Ana - rejected

Dax. Lieutenant Jadzia-rejected.

Odo, Constable-rejected.

O'Brien, Chief Miles - accepted

Petersen. Dr. Lanna -rejected."

I could at least talk to Miles. I read the list again and again, so pleased to see that one name, standing out, and the golden word "accepted". I revisited the conversation I had imagined earlier that day. At 2100 hours, I would be speaking to him, the real Miles, my friend. He had been the only one who had tried to warn me about Sloan from the beginning, He had been the only one who had told me before my arrest that Sloan's target on DS9 was me. I did not know how I was going to sleep, the excitement was so intense. I felt like I was five years old and it was my birthday the next day. I told myself that falling asleep would mean that tomorrow would come faster. I rolled over, face to the wall, closed my eyes and fell into a deep. comforting sleep. waiting for tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5 – Position Shift_

"Kira to O'Brien. Sorry Chief, but we've just lost half the internal sensors again."

The call from Ops was just one more irritation in a day which had started badly and had just got worse. The station, especially the security systems, was riddled with minor computer problems after Internal Affairs had gone over our systems looking for evidence of sabotage. They had removed chips for evidence, replacing them with systems clearly not designed for the Station's Cardassian computers.

"Be right there, Major" I acknowledged. calling "Ops" to the turbolift.

The journey was short, and gave me a chance to take a few deep breaths and calm down. I still felt the shock, though, of walking into Ops and not seeing Jadzia at her station. No-one on the senior staff was used to her not being there, it had only been a couple of weeks since her memorial. I got to work on the offending console, and within a few minutes the incompatibility problems had been fixed.

"How's that now, Major? Should be online now, it was a 'sabotage.' " This was our new word around DS9 for any problem caused by Sloan's people and their "evidence gathering."

"OK. coming on line. How is the sabotage situation?

"Getting better, Major" I replied "But we're still losing random secondary systems, the chips are just blowing out whenever systems are activated. Bloody Internal Affairs!"

The Major glanced up and smiled, obviously she had heard my curse.

"Chief, why don't you take a break, go down to the Replimat. grab a coffee for five minutes? You've been working all day"

I thought about it, and decided it was a good idea.

"Thanks Major, call me if you need me" I said, and walked into the turbolift.

A few minutes later, I was standing in front of the replicator, looking forward to a coffee and a slice of lemon cake.

"Coffee, Jamaican Blend, double strong, double sweet. And a portion of lemon cake" I commanded the replicator.

It whirred into life, before giving me my order. I sat down in a far corner, eating quietly, enjoying the break. I couldn't help thinking, though, about the events of the last few weeks. Not just Jadzia's death, though that had hit us all very hard, but Julian's arrest and how Internal Affairs had removed any trace of him from the station. It was strange, we had a new CMO, all of Julian's things had been destroyed or taken away for analysis and people had stopped talking about him in public. It was like he had died, though people still talked about Jadzia a lot. I missed Keiko, who had not been allowed to return from Bajor until Internal Affairs had finished interrogating the senior staff. She was due back tomorrow, the first transport she could find space on.

"Odo to O'Brien. Chief, the monitors in the security office have all gone down again." Odo's voice echoed out of my comm badge. I sighed, another break cut short. I gulped the last mouthfuls of coffee.

"O'Brien to Odo. Constable, I'm on my way"

Picking up my lemon cake. I walked to the security office.

I left the security office three hours later, having gone through practically the whole security net trying to fix one problem and finding at least four others as I worked. Internal Affairs had gone over all security with a fine tooth comb. I asked the computer for the time; 20:48 hours. I had been pulling ten and eleven hour shifts every day this week, trying to get the station back up and operational. I was just setting off towards our quarters, looking forward to a good meal and the sonic shower when my communicator bleeped.

"Sisko to O'Brien. You are receiving a secure communication in my office. Are you free to receive it?"

"O'Brien to Sisko. I'm on my way up now." I replied, curious.

I could think of no reason why I might receive a secure transmission, unless it was from Internal Affairs, in response to the complaint the Captain had made about the state of the station.

I was still thinking about it as I stepped out of the turbolift into Ops. I walked into Sisko's office apprehensively. It was stupid, but walking into his office always made me feel like I was back at school on Earth, about to get in trouble for some misdemeanour.

"Chief" Sisko greeted me "we received this message a few minutes ago. It's from Internal Affairs and for you only, so take it in here where it is secure. If a problem. I'll be in Ops."

"Yes sir" I replied, reaching forward to enter my access code and open the channel.

An Internal Affairs screen came up, followed by a list of instructions. They were all related to what I could and could not say to the person I was about to speak to. I assumed that someone from the front line was contacting me. Internal Affairs had placed restrictions on what could be said to those in the midst of the fighting. I thumb-printed them as requested, and waited to see what happened next.

Suddenly Julian's face appeared on the screen. His face was gaunt, with dark shadows under his eyes. and his hair had grown longer, emphasising his cheekbones. What shocked me most about his appearance, though, was the rash which spread across his neck. He wore a black jump-suit, with a low neckline, and this rash seemed to spread out from the base of his neck down onto his collarbones.

I perched on the end of Sisko's desk, facing the screen, waiting.

"Chief" Julian whispered. then coughed and tried again "Chief" he said, bolder this time.

"Julian" I responded "what's happened?"

"All I'm allowed to say is that I've been arrested for anti-Federation actions. They say I'm responsible for giving the intelligence on the Betazed attack, various convoy attacks and basically everything bad which has happened to the Federation in the war. I'm not even a member of the Federation any more."

I was shocked. The only things I could think to say was

"What did you do? And what's that thing on your neck?"

"Nothing. I've done nothing. You've got to believe me. Hell, I made mistakes, we all did, but nothing to justify this. Everyone who serves in Starfleet does, I'm no different. The thing on my neck is my tracker. It can't be removed and they'll always be able to follow me with it there. I'm innocent, but they all think I'm guilty."

I could scarcely believe what I was hearing. Was Starfleet really an organisation which tortured people. and which locked innocent people up? Was Julian innocent?

"But they've been here, though. Internal Affairs have been at the station for the past three weeks, stripping every major circuit for evidence and taking every opportunity to tell us that you are guilty. So much has happened at the station since you left. What about the Constitution? What about any of it? I don't know what I think of it, I'm sorry, that's the best I can do."

"You have to believe me. Miles" Julian replied.

I had not really meant to sound so harsh, but alter all the experiences both of us had with false imprisonment. I could barely believe that Starfleet itself would do the same thing.

"When you were arrested by the Argrathi. I stood by you. I believed that you were innocent. I still do. Please do the same thing for me. Please believe that Starfleet can make a mistake, if you believe me then you support me, and if you support me, then I'm not alone. Sloan is making this up, I swear to you!"

"Then Sloan's responsible." I said to myself not intending Julian to overhear. I had reckoned without his genetically engineered hearing, though.

"I know he is, he is responsible for all of this. I just can't find a way to convince him that I'm right and he's wrong about me." Julian replied.

I took a deep breath. That was not what I had meant. I decided that Julian had a right to know about Jadzia. They had been friends for years. since his first day on board.

"Julian" I began "That's not what I meant. I said that things had changed here on the station, and they have. I've got to tell you something else. Jadzia was killed, about two weeks after you.."

I paused. not knowing what to say

"After you left. She was in the temple when the Orb kind of exploded. According to Kira, she was praying for a baby. She was killed by the energy discharge"

Julian was silent for a long time. Finally he croaked

"what about Dax? What about the symbiont?"

"It died too. The replacement doctor couldn't save it, he said that the synaptic links were too badly damaged. The doctor said after the post-mortem that she was pregnant. You'd done it, you'd given her and Worf the child they wanted, it's just she never got to know. If she'd known, then maybe she would be here now. I'm sorry" I felt my own voice falter and break.

Julian sat for a long minute. He brought his hands up to rub his face, and I was shocked to see that he wore restraints, he seemed so used to them, as though he barely noticed they were there. He saw my reaction, though, because he laughed wryly and, raising his wrists to give me a good view, he muttered

"Enemy of the state and all that. They probably think I might pollute you and turn you to the Dominion just by talking to you"

"Don't even joke" I replied, sensing that Julian was attempting to block out Jadzia's death to avoid embarrassing himself by showing weakness in front of the guards.

"They've been here for nearly a month questioning me. I think they're convinced that you already have"

Suddenly Julian became intense again. Leaning forward, he said to me

"Tell Sisko what I've told you. And, tell him I'm innocent. I didn't do anything consciously and I don't have repressed memories."

"I will" I promised him. "I will tell him."

With that, a voice out of sight of my viewscreen called

"Time"

and Julian reluctantly said goodbye and rose, ending the communication. I sat staring at the blank screen long after the communication had ended, just thinking. Then, standing up. I hit my communicator

"O'Brien to Sisko. Sir, can I come and talk to you? I've just had a message from Julian."


	6. Chapter 6

I followed the guard back to the cell block. The news about Jadzia had not sunk in then, and all I could think about was whether the Chief would be able to convince Sisko that I was innocent. I walked back into my cell calmly, holding out my hands for the restraints to be removed. I had noticed Miles' face when he had seen them, and his shock at seeing me wearing them. I had got used to them now, and barely noticed them on my wrists.

I sat on my bed in the cell, feeling calm, calmer in fact than I had felt since I had been brought to the Starbase. I just sat, thinking. Not daydreaming about DS9 as I would usually do through the empty hours in the cell, but thinking instead about trivial things, like maths problems and recipes. It was not for several hours that the news of Jadzia set in. I was sitting contented in my cell, when suddenly I realised that Jadzia was dead, that she would not live to see my innocence proved, that she would not be on DS9 to welcome me home. She would never know that I was innocent, she would never know that I succeeded in giving her a child. She died believing that I was a traitor and a bad doctor, unable to give her and Worf a child together.

I tried to hold back the tears. I tried to think of the happier times, the times we had together, all the little things which made us laugh. But they were gone, they had gone when the temple had become a death trap. I felt the warm tears trickling out of my eyes, and scrunched my hands into fists to hold them back. Instead I felt their warmth and saltiness burning my hands slightly, making my face sore. I sat on my bed and let myself weep freely for Jadzia, I had no other choice. I could not stop the flow of tears.

I could not sleep either, and lay in the darkness, cold and alone. All I could think about was how I might have been able to save her if I had been there. If I had betrayed Starfleet, then it had cost another life. Surely they must have some convincing evidence if they took me away and stopped me from doing my job, from saving lives. What did they know that I didn't? Did Jadzia die believing that I was a traitor? Did she hate me? Did she even believe the allegations? Would O'Brien tell Sisko that I was innocent? Was I even still innocent after Jadzia's death?

The thoughts went round and round inside my head. I stood up, in an effort to free myself from them and walked to the forcefield, hoping maybe to see someone, to make eye contact. There was no one there, they were all asleep. I sat down by the forcefield, looking out, trying to reconcile myself to the situation, maybe, or just trying to shake the thoughts about Jadzia. I did not move from the floor, and eventually, I must have dozed off, because the next think I remember is the cell powering up and finding myself in an uncomfortable heap on the floor. For one moment, I felt almost serene, calm and relaxed. I took a deep breath, then suddenly remembered the news. Jadzia is dead!

That day I just sat in my cell, trying to comprehend what had happened. I ate nothing. I was not hungry and I did not cry. I just sat, staring into space. I did not leave my cell during association, indeed. I hardly noticed it happening around me. I was oblivious as the forcefields fell and rose, duty shifts changed and meals were handed out. I do not remember anything that I thought about, I was probably not thinking of anything. It was then, during some of the lowest days of my imprisonment that I received the PADD detailing my hearing.

The PADD simply read "Stardate 65435.3 - evaluation and preliminary hearing of Bashir; Julian. Present-Sloan; Deputy Director-Internal Affairs, Tim'Anna; Admiral-Internal Affairs, Hall; Admiral Internal Affairs Branch B. Nachayev; Admiral Starfleet Security. Taylor; Admiral-Starfleet Security" I could make head nor tail of it and had to ask the others.

"It's your preliminary hearing" Jamatina told me

"they're going to go through the evidence. see if there's enough to justify keeping you here for further questioning"

"And if they don't find enough evidence?" I replied

"Then they'll let you go. It does happen."

"Sometimes" snorted Ben sarcastically.

The day of the hearing, I made a special effort. I took my shower allowance and claimed a clean uniform, to put on a good impression. I was marched to the interrogation room, but without the restraints, and with five people on the other side of the table, not just the two I was used to.

Admiral Hall introduced the hearing

"Julian Bashir. You were arrested on Stardate 65357.1 on suspicion of espionage and treason. This hearing is to determine whether there are grounds for continued questioning. If at any point you are unsure as to what is going on or you want a point clarified, please make this known to us. You will be given the opportunity to comment on the case presented. As you know, Director Sloan will be presenting the evidence. Director Sloan. please begin when you are ready"

Sloan stood up, cleared his throat and began. He listed every little mistake I had ever made. Everything, from Bopak, which maybe was an error of judgement, to my work with the genetically modified patients, which certainly was not. He even dragged out incidents from years ago, my work with Odo and Odo's adopted baby. Even my friendship with Garak was held up as evidence. My modifications were also a prime target, as was my imprisonment in 371. I tried to correct him, but Sloan could provide far more plausible explanations than I could for the discrepancy between Martok's and my stories. The more I listened to Sloan, the more compelling the evidence became, even to me. Psychological evaluations compiled by the mysterious Betazoid and brain scans were even submitted, as evidence of possible engrammatic dissociation. Sloan even managed to trap me into explaining the anomaly shown in the scan, an anomaly which I knew was a result of my modification, but which could indicate engrammatic dissociation. Finally, Sloan launched his last bombshell.

"Permission to enter evidence from Bashir's fellow officers onto the record?"

"Permission granted" nodded the Chairman.

The screen on the wall fizzled into life and I saw O'Brien and Sloan, clearly this was footage of an interrogation session on DS9.

"So, you and Bashir crashlanded on Bopak III after shuttle malfunction?"

"Yes" replied O'Brien

"What did Bashir do on the planet?"

"He attempted to cure the Jem'Hadar addiction to Ketracel White."

"How did you feel about that?" Asked Sloan. I could tell from O'Brien's answers that he had been asked these questions many times during the interrogation

"I was angry. To tell you the truth, I thought he'd forgotten that the were the enemy, and that if he cured the addiction, then we would have no chance to win the war. But, that's Julian. he's like that, his love of medicine sometimes takes over."

"Takes over?" Repeated Sloan. "In what way?"

"He is a doctor before anything else. Does that make sense? If he can save a life, he will fight to do so, regardless of who he is trying to save."

"So, to Doctor Bashir, his medical work would take a higher priority than Starfleet orders?"

Miles paused for a long time, he realised the trap he had fallen into. Eventually he took a deep breath and said

"Yes. Julian would help anyone he could if they needed it, regardless of Starfleet orders."

"What is his attitude to the war, do you think?"

"I don't know. I think he struggles to understand what the fighting is for, he can see all these individual lives in a way that I can't. The report you asked me about earlier. That was all about saving lives, it's more important than war. For him, maybe?"

"How far would Bashir go to save lives?"

Miles was getting tired, it was obvious. Tired, frustrated and clearly annoyed with himself for falling into the interrogation trap. He snapped back

"I don't know. Look, you've read his report. Even you have to admit it took guts to write!He risked everything to develop a strategy to save lives. I might disagree with it, but I respect what he did!"

Back in the hearing room, Sloan turned from the screen and tapped on a PADD. The image of O'Brien faded out, and was replaced by an image taken from the DS9 security cameras, the first night I was held in the holding cells, after being dragged through the promenade and humiliated by Sloan's cronies and their chains.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

I heard my voice, horror-stricken, sounding so alone. I could hear the tremor of fear, echoing around the holding cell.

"I don't think you're lying, Julian" responded Sisko

I had not noticed at the time just how uncomfortable he looked saying that,

"But..." My voice again, interrupting, if anything with even more fear and uncertainty.

"But, as a doctor, isn't it in the realm of medical possibility that the Dominion did recruit you and you have blocked it out of your memory?"

"Even if it is possible, it didn't happen!"

There it was again, the horror, the fear. The feeling of abandonment.

"it's late, try to get some sleep" Sisko left the holding cells and with those words, pulled the rug completely out from under my feet.

I heard my head hit the back of the holding cell. The nightmare was well and truly under way.

The footage then switched to Sisko's interview

"Yes" Sisko was saying "he has made several bad judgements in his time. But does that make him a traitor?"

"you tell me. You made a report to Admiral Hall following Bashir's return from Internment Camp 371. I quote, 'the report of the escape from Camp 371 does seem too simplistic to be a full account of events. I do feel some concern about this, though all officers have had full medicals and no evidence of foul play has been found. However, I do have concerns at this point.' Do you deny writing this report?"

"No," replied Sisko

"So you did have suspicions at the time?"

"Not really, something felt wrong, that's all. I just wanted to make Starfleet aware"

The interrogation room on the Starbase suddenly felt very cold. I had been betrayed. What I had experienced on 371 had been horrific, had taken me to the limits. The escape attempt had been an act of desperation because I could see what was going to happen if we stayed an longer. For Captain Sisko to devalue what we had done, that hurt. It also provided the most compelling evidence for the panel.

By the time the panel left the room to deliberate and I sat in the room alone aside from a silent guard, I knew it was inevitable, I would not be released.

"Julian Bashir." Announced Admiral Hall, as the panel re-entered the room.

"It is the finding of the evaluation panel that the evidence is sufficient to justify holding you at Starbase 53 for further questioning. We hereby authorise Deputy Director Sloan, under the guidance of Admiral Tim'Anna, to hold you for the length of time they see fit in order to compile a case for the Judge Advocate General's Office."


	7. Chapter 7

I was led back to the cells, shattered. All I could think was that I would spend the rest of my life in 53. I sat, trying to assimilate what had happened, both my imprisonment and the death of Jadzia. I found that I could not, and gradually my thoughts shifted to consideration of my own death. I realised, with a shock, that I was planning how best to commit suicide, how best to end it all. At least in death I could find freedom.

I was still planning when we were released for association. I did not want to talk to anyone, I leant up against a wall, not wanting to join in the conversation. The others knew about the hearing, and respected my privacy. After about half an hour of just sitting, Jamatina came over to me, sitting down by my side.

"they kept you here then?" she said, sympathetically.

"indefinite detention" I replied, feeling the desperation within me again, feeling the battle to keep my voice steady.

"I am sorry" Jamatina spoke with sincerity.

"did they do the same thing to you?" I asked her, suddenly

"Yeah" she replied "thirteen months ago. I got that same PADD and went to the hearing. They decided I was still a risk too."

"Did your friends testify against you?" I needed to know if this were a standard technique

"Some of them, yes. The ones who fought in the Cardassian war and were angry that I had lied about my origins. There are some people in Starfleet who hate Cardassians and will say anything against them for no reason. Those people denounced me." Jamatina sounded hurt

"My commanding officer was suspicious about me for nearly a year before all this happened. I didn't know, al;ll the time I was arrested, when I was in a DS9 holding cell and hew as giving me advice, he thought that there was some truth to Sloan's argument." I heard the same shock in my voice as I had heard on the tape from the holding cell.

"I'm sorry." sighed Jamatina. "I know how that feels. but you have to remember that they did it because they were scared of you. Not for being a Dominion spy, because I don't think you are, but because you had a higher cause than them. You had this set of beliefs which they didn't share, you're a better human than them. That scared them."

"But what? What do I do which is so much better than them?" I was unconvinced by her explanation.

She turned to me with a look of absolute sincerity

"You save lives. Regardless of who the person is who you are saving, you try to save everyone. I heard you tell Laren that you would fight just as hard for a Maquis than a Starfleet. I believe that. You can brush aside the divides that Sloan and his cronies impose on us, all this stuff about sides and enemies."

I still hate the Dominion. They've killed too many of my friends not to." I replied.

"But the point is, if you found a Jem'Hadar who was dying, you would try to save it if you could. Even if you hate them!"

"But I can't save anyone here." I said, bitterly "so it's a moot point anyway. I can't do anything except stare at these walls. I can't even think of a decent way to end it and leave."

"You can still fight them." Jamatina spoke with passion. "You can fight to protect yourself from Sloan, you can keep from breaking and refuse to sign the confession. You can stop him attacking other innocent people. You can keep telling the truth." She smiled crookedly as we both rose and returned to cells for the end of association.

The day after, I was till in a daze, but i could feel my sorrow starting to well up inside. I had nearly forgotten Jadzia after the hearing yesterday, but she had come back into my thoughts in the night, reproaching me for my selfishness. I was trying to grieve properly, to organise the searing pain into something more easy to deal with, when Sloan's guards marched in and marched me off to interrogation, restrained and surrounded.

I desperately wanted to be left alone, but there would be no respite as Sloan launched into his attack.

"You killed Jadzia Dax" he began. "It was your betrayal that led to her death."

"No!" I screamed back. "It was you. I could have saved her, I could have saved her. If you hadn't brought me here. If you weren't desperate for revenge!"

"On the contrary, doctor. Your treachery gave the Dominion the intelligence they needed to realise that sabotaging the temple was a good idea. They probably didn't want Lieutenant Dax, they were probably after someone else. Who, Doctor, Who?"

"I don't know!" I replied loudly. " I didn't tell them anything. When I was in 371, they asked me nothing,. I didn't tell them anything. I didn't help them kill Jadzia. I could have saved her. I'll never know if I could have saved her. You putting your stooge doctor in my place killed her. And how many others?"

"OK, Doctor. Why did you say I'm sorry Jadzia' after you found out about her death? You were crying in your cell and those were your words, do you deny that?"

"No, I probably did say that. I can't remember, I was shocked and upset and angry"

"So what did you have to be sorry about?"

"many things. Nothing. I don't know! I was sorry because she didn't need to die, she died in a temple, it was a futile death and she would have hated herself for dying that way. She would have died not knowing she was pregnant. I might have been able to tell her. I'm sorry for Dax and how eight lifetimes could be incinerated. I'm sorry it happened to her, I'm sorry for Worf."

"And also sorry for causing her death?" Sloan cut in

"I didn't kill her, you pathetic, ignorant hate-monger. I didn't do any of the things you accuse me of"

"Yes you did, Doctor. The evidence is too compelling. You may not know that you did them, which is remarkable, but you did. The evidence is too compelling. We just have to make sure we find every one of your contacts, and neutralise all of them. Now, let's begin again, shall we?"

The familiar questions began

"How many days were you imprisoned in Internment Camp 371?"

The interrogation seemed to go on for hours. Sloan was always there, asking me questions, demanding answers. When I did not provide them, he screamed at me, calling me a traitor. The questions were on all sorts of topics, O'Brien, Garak, the infirmary. Everything. He even asked me if my work on Melora had been part of a plot to allow Jem'Hadar born on low gravity planets to function in an M class atmosphere. I laughed out lout at that demonstration of his stupidity.

But the questions carried on, and as hours passed, I got more and more exhausted. Finally, with one burst of energy, I shouted at him.

"If I killed Jadzia Dax, who killed your son? You know who? You did! You've arrested the people who could have saved him, the people who were there on the front-line. You have it easy here, far away from the front-line, far away from anything. You've never fought for anyone. You killed him, not me, and you killed Jadzia, not me!"

Sloan went white. I realised I had touched a nerve, I had power over him. I was no longer a victim. I exulted in those triumphant moments, until Sloan gathered himself, radiating an aura of threat beyond any I had sensed from him before.

"You do realise that Jadzia Dax died knowing you were a traitor? Do you also know that when she gave testimony against you, that was probably the last time she thought of you. She thought you were scum, lower than scum, and she said so. It's in your file." He smiled, an evil little half-smile at me.

I lost control. I got up from my chair, anger making me forget the restraints. From far away, I heard an alarm buzzer sound, but I ignored it, the noise adding to the collage of buzzing in my head as I hit Sloan again and again with the restraints on my wrists. I reached for him, trying to tear at his skin, thrashing, pounding, hitting, tearing, over and over. I was screaming, i could feel heat, blood. Then a burning in my back, sharp like I had been stabbed by a sword made of a star. The heat turned to pain and spread across my body, I could not move, could not think. For a split second, i thought I was dying. Then the searing heat switched abruptly to a freezing cold, and I collapsed, stunned, onto the interrogation room floor.


	8. Chapter 8

I awoke on the bed in my cell. My restraints had been removed by the guards and I had been left on my side with my blanket covering me. My cell was in lockdown, the riot doors were down and I could see or hear nothing outside my metal box. I felt nauseous from the phaser, and I guessed from my reaction, that it had been set to heavy stun. I had probably been out for an hour or so.

I struggled to sit up, feeling my head spin as I did so. Through the fuzzy nausea, I tried to remember what had happened. Gradually the fog cleared, and I remembered what had taken place. I remembered shouting, questions. Then, like a thunderbolt, I remembered it all. I had hit Sloan, I had hit him in the face. And it had felt good, really good, though I wondered how long it would put me in lockdown for.

I sat leaning against the wall, wondering what to do. I took my old rank studs from their hiding place and looked at them, remembering how proud I was to receive them, how happy I was to wear them. Another wave of phaser-nausea swept through me, and I closed me eyes, waiting for it to clear.

The next thing I knew, I was standing in the Infirmary on DS9. I was conscious of my heartbeat pounding in my ears as I looked round. Jadzia was lying on one of the examination beds, heavily pregnant. She suddenly sat up.

"Did you kill me?" she asked in a strange, distorted voice.

"No," I replied, whispering

"Do you believe that?"

"Yes, with all my being" I replied, confidently. I did, that was the truth. I had not told anyone anything that could have been used against her.

The scene melted away. I was still in the Infirmary, but now I was watching an operation. I walked closer to see who was being operated on. On the table , skull wide open, revealing a pulsating brain, was a person in a Starfleet uniform, the blue of Starfleet Medical. I looked closer, it was my face. I was on the table. As I watched, the me on the table opened its eyes and looked straight up into my own. I felt a jolt of electricity course through me as our eyes connected.

"Do you know what lies within yourself?"

The scene changed again. It was Sloan on the table this time, and a life support machine whined in the background. One faceless surgeon looked at me

"He is dead"

The other turned

"He died a long time ago. He died in flame"

The scene shifted, now I was in 371. A guard stared at me

"Do you know what happened here?"

Then Garak

"Can you trust yourself?"

General Martok

"Is your fight honourable?"

He reached out and tapped my head

"Only you know the truth."

Finally, Jadzia appeared and 371 melted away into the whiteness

"You did not kill my baby, you know who you are"

"Why are you telling me this?" I said weakly. The Jadzia figure lost some definition, became nebulous.

"You walk with the Sisko. You keep him strong for the battles he must face. You have kept him strong when he has fought our enemies, you guard him from harm and enable him to carry on. The Sisko taught us about bargains and rewards. This was our best reward to you, to thank you for your service to the Sisko."

I felt weak for a moment, then I was back sitting on my bed in the cell. What had happened? It had sounded like an Orb Shadow, but how? There was no Orb here, that was certain. Maybe the reach of the Prophets was much further than we had thought before? I tried to stop the analytic thoughts and instead concentrate on the imagery. That seemed much more important, somehow.

The memory of what I had seen was still strong three days later when the riot doors rose and I was allowed out for association. I was met with excited greetings from the others

"You hit Sloan, didn't you?" Squeaked kabe'Etana "We saw the mark on him as you were bought back"

"Yes, I did hit him" I replied, telling them the whole story about the interrogation. One I had finished, I turned to Laren

"I need to speak with you?" I whispered

I told her exactly what I had seen, and why I thought it was an Orb Shadow. She sat and listened, with awe on her face. When i had finished, she sat silently for a few moments, then turned and whispered

"The prophets are telling you that you are innocent. They see everything, they alone can truly judge you and they have."

A sentence that changed the world.

I clung to them as the years passed by. Every interrogation, every lockdown, every day of the prison routine. O'Brien and I drifted apart as the war ended, his life was changing, deep space was changing, the Federation was changing, but my life was in stasis, just the same, a mindless routine stretching into eternity. I lost communication privileges for six months after a particularly major breach of the rules, and after that, I lost touch with O'Brien and never really spoke to anyone from my previous life. I had never been allowed to talk to my mother, she probably believed I was dead.

Laren guided me through my eventual conversion to the Bajoran religion, completing my initiation ceremony over the course of association times. I learnt to meditate, to seek answers from the Prophets. Now I knew that they were watching me here, as well as DS9, I felt comforted. I had no more visions, but that was irrelevant. Sloan could not touch me, I was innocent.

Kabe'Etana moved on, she was released and allowed to return to Ktaria. Sonak was also freed. A few new people were brought in during the immediate aftermath of the war, however they moved on fairly quickly. One was a genuine Dominion spy, who had passed battle plans to the Dominion. His presence caused tension in the whole block. We did not know how to behave around him, he was the enemy, but then, to the rest of the universe, so were we.

I had been in Starbase 53 for thirteen years, thirteen long years of hearings, case-building and continuing detention, when Harry Kim and Chakotay were brought in. We knew them by reputation before they ever arrived. Among the Alpha Quadrant's most wanted, they had stolen classified material and a prototype starship and attempted to use Borg technology. We had been expecting people with some sort of superhuman aura about them, after hearing all about their crimes. We were all a little disappointed when they arrived, an older man with a tattoo on his forehead, and a younger Asian man, who were put into adjacent cells after their late-night arrival. I watched for a while before going back to sleep. Whatever exploits they had got up to before, they wouldn't be doing anything else now.

A few hours alter, I was awoken by screaming, an unearthly howl of desperation. Gradually words became clearer

"We have to go back. No! Let me go back. We've got to help them, we've got to go back"

The crying faded slightly, and I could hear another, deeper, voice mumbling

"Calm down, remember where we are. It's all over now, they're gone, it's all over."

I thought again of Odyssey, the feeling of being utterly helpless. I wondered what he had left behind.

Gradually we got to know each other. I learned that they were both ex-Starfleet officers, the sole survivors of Voyager, the ship believed destroyed in the Badlands. It transpired that the ship had never been destroyed, but instead had been transported to the Delta Quadrant. The ship had been lost as they attempted to use a new warp technology to get back, only Kim and Chakotay had survived. They had stolen the technology to send a message back in time, to save the ship, but had been attacked and disabled by a Starfleet ship moments before they were able to send the signal. Instead of saving their crewmates and themselves, they had condemned themselves to a life in here, in 53, or somewhere similar.

Harry Kim was a genius. He was issued with a PADD almost straight away and would occasionally show me what he was working on. It was maths beyond the capability of my genetically engineered brain, and I was amazed to learn that Kim had none of my genetic advantages. He explained to me that he was working on phase corrections for transwarp tunnels, and I would see him typing into his PADD long into the night. When he did finally fall asleep, he would always wake up a few hours later, screaming. . He could only be calmed by his friend Chakotay.

Life carried on like this for a few months. Chakotay and Kim were never interrogated and the guards treated them kindly. I was still _persona non grata_ and treated with anything from disdain to outright contempt. I was jealous of their preferential treatment and also depressed and angry at myself that I could be jealous of something so petty. I was beginning to see the futility of my life, just as I had earlier during my imprisonment. I was finding less comfort in the Prophets, their profession of my innocence had been a long time ago, and little had changed for me since.


	9. Chapter 9

Just as I was feeling that I could not go on much longer, my life changed again, with as much drama as my first arrest. Kim moved to sit next to me during association, clutching his PADD as usual. He pointed to a formula on the screen.

"You're smart. Can you have a look at this with me?"

I was aware that Chakotay had edged towards me, and I tensed up slightly as I glanced at the screen. At first glance, it appeared to be covered in warp geometry formulae. I was confused, and was just about to turn and ask Kim why he was showing me this, when something caught my eye. The formulae were code-breakers, and the work I had taken as examples, was really coded messages. I looked down and gradually was able to read

"We want to try and reach them again. We need you to remove the tracking pellets. Come with us"

I hid my shock with ease, years of interrogation had left me practised in the art of concealing my emotions. Reaching down towards the PADD, I mumbled

"I think you need to do it this way, it may make more sense if you use a Kosinsky function in place of the Cochrane formula?"

As I waffled on, I wrote

"I can help, I will be ready"

Kim glanced at the PADD and frowned for a minute

"Yeah, you're probably right. I hadn't thought of that. I might run it past you again in a few days"

I spent the next days on tenterhooks. I could not find peace in meditation, I could not find peace in anything. I attempted to calm myself by preparing as best I could. I began to hide more TKL's, I hid my old command pips in the armpit of my jumpsuit. I also tried to ignore the persistent tremor in my hands, but I was terrified that I would be rendered useless because of the shaking. I had been shot by too many phasers set to heavy stun, and the shaking was the effect. It was permanent and incurable, a scar of 53.

It was just as I was watching my hands shake, worrying about them, that it happened. The cellblock blacked out and the dim emergency lights came on, flickering ominously. I was suddenly blinded by a bright flash as the forcefields fell. I ran out, being careful to get behind Kim and Chakotay. Laren followed my lead and ran. Jamatina threw herself at her forcefield, but it remained intact. Her side of the room watched in frustration as we charged out, leaving them trapped. My last view of her was when she blew a kiss through the forcefield at our departing forms.

There was only a skeleton security crew on duty, we were no longer considered as high-risk as we had once been. They were alerted to our escape, but Kim and Chakotay's plan was so meticulous that they did not catch up with us until we were outside the docking bay. Kim, Chakotay and myself were up front and able to make it through the docking bay doors before the guards could fire. Laren was at the back and, realising that she would not make it through the doors, she turned and charged the guards, screaming like an animal. Just as the door closed, the screaming stopped, and with a weird gasping, sucking sound, she was vaporised. There was no time to mourn. Kim ran up to the nearest shuttle and began typing in commands on his PADD, opening the shuttle ramp as we bundled inside.

"Harry Kim to all Starbase Personnel!" He accessed communications and began broadcasting throughout the Starbase.

"We are occupying the Shuttle Erasmus and I have control of all shuttle systems. Open the bay doors or I will initiate shuttle auto-destruct, taking out the docking bay and all of deck 7!"

Sloan's voice came over the shuttle speaker. Even though it was older than it had been at the time, the voice still struck the Fear into me,

"You can't do that. All out systems are protected."

"Oh yeah? Really" With that, Kim typed commands into the shuttle control and within a minute, the base computer chimed

"Warning! Life Support in Section 41 has been terminated. Evacuate section immediately"

"We will Not be threatened by criminals like you!" Sloan's angry voice echoed around the shuttle.

"Warning! Life Support in Section 40 has been terminated. Evacuate section immediately"

Silently, the shuttlebay doors came up and we were free to leave.

"Remember. We will always find you. We can still track you. You can leave here, but you'll never leave us. We will always be tracking you"

With Sloan's threat in our ears, Chakotay set a course for the Badlands.


	10. Chapter 10

I felt incredible, light headed and giddy, drunk on freedom. I sat in the back of the shuttle reading about the implants, trying to find a way to extract them. I was drinking a plain cup of water and eating hot toast, dripping with butter. For the first time in fifteen years, I felt normal. I could almost imagine that those years had not occurred, but the fantasy was blown away when I saw Chakotay piloting the shuttle where it should have been O'Brien.

We successfully dodged Federation ships for days. A combination of Chakotay's exceptional piloting skills and Kim's technological wizardry outsmarted all the ships we came near. The Voyager survivors were pressing me to find a way of removing the implants as the longer it took, the more difficult it was to dodge ships. However, the answer proved illusive, they were much more integrated into our bodies than I had realised. As far as I could tell, though it was completely illegal, the implants had been integrated with bodily systems so far as if they were removed improperly, they would release neurotoxin, not enough to kill, but to maim. I was still nowhere near a solution when we finally met our match, I heard the hail from where I was sitting in the back of the shuttle.

"This is Captain Nog of the Starship Defiant to renegade vessel. Stand down and prepare to be boarded. Don't make this difficult on yourselves, we know who you are."

Pushing my way forward, I commanded the computer to open a comm channel.

"If you know who I am, then you'll know I'm not a traitor. I'm your friend. I've known you since I first came aboard DS9, I helped you. You know me. I am not a traitor, I never have been, and neither are the people I'm with"

"You are not my friend and if I'd known what you really were, you would never have been my friend on DS9. I don't care what you did for me back then, I was probably just an unwilling part of your plan, your disguise. I would have no hesitation in handing you over or shooting you across the stars."

"They're powering weapons, initiating evasive manoeuvres" called Chakotay from the comm. "We can't hold them off though, not in this."

As if to punctuate his remarks, the ship shuddered as the Defiant locked on with a tractor beam.

"Not again. This won't happen again" swore Kim "I'll destroy them myself".

"No!" I pushed him away from the console. "You can't kill them, they're my friends"

"They hate you. I won't let them take me again!"

"Please," I begged. "Don't kill them. Then we will be murderers and Sloan would have been right. They've done us no harm and there are other ways"

Kim glared at me for a long moment before reaching forward. He entered a few short commands into the weapons console. I could not see what he was doing, and I did not dare ask. Instead I moved towards the window. If he was going to destroy the Defiant, I wanted to see it happen.

I saw a flash travelling up the tractor beam, and the tractor emitter exploded.

"Chakotay, get us clear" ordered Kim

"What have you done, Harry?" Shouted Chakotay

"Relax" Kim smiled coldly. "I've just sent an antimatter pulse up the tractor beam. They'll have to eject their warp core, but they're in Federation space and can get help. They're just not going to be going very far for a while. Don't thank me all at once!"

I stood by the window and watched the warp core leave the ship, floating gracefully before flashing briefly and going dead.

"See" Kim turned to me "Not even an explosion."

We were both watching the Defiant out of the window when we heard a transporter beam behind us. As we turned, hearts falling, we saw a box and a PADD appear on the table. I grabbed the PADD as Kim opened the box to reveal medical tools, engineering equipment and spare parts,

"You can be free now" The message on the PADD read "Here are instructions for removing the implants. Some of us always knew you were innocent. Good luck – Dax."

I was able to use the medical equipment to beam the implants out of our bodies. We then sent them into space with some random organic material and metal. We even beamed the molecules of our horrible black jumpsuits into space, replacing them with comfortable civilian clothes. Hopefully the material would be found and we could be recorded as deceased. We were free and as the shuttle moved on, we all wondered where our futures lay. Somewhere I knew I could find peace, there must be some place where I could live without being a pariah or a genetic freak. Somewhere I could reclaim my identity as a doctor, stop being Bashir the traitor and instead return to being Bashir the healer. Somewhere out there where I could find redemption.

When I had first been arrested, Sloan had made me a promise. He told me that he would get the truth out of me, then take whatever was left of me and lock it away.

I gave him nothing but the truth, and this is what was left of me. And he did not, could not, lock it up forever. For now I am finally, completely, truly free.

_The end._


	11. Author's Note

_Author's Note,_

_And now, it is done!_

_Thank you for bearing with me as I worked on it, it's been a bit of a journey for me as well. _

_Apologies for the long gap between updates, I have been without Internet for nearly a month :(_

_To make it up to you all, I have uploaded the entire story, completed_

_Hope you like it, please read, review and most importantly, enjoy!_

_xxxx_

_POJ_


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